The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee is a historical novel which appeals on many levels. At times, it is a throwback to the sentimental romantic literature of the 18th century (during which it is set), a peep show into the seamier side of the British aristocracy, an institution well practiced at hiding scandal, corruption and basic human compulsions behind wealth, power and rigid class structure. (If you’ve read anything by Jane Austen you will have some sense of how this highly stratified society works.) At times, it has elements of a modern romantic comedy, with three young protagonists trying to navigate family drama while finding their places in society. Finally, it is an awkward coming-out tale for its aristocratic narrator, Henry “Monty” Montague — although the concept of “coming out” would have been unimaginable during his era.

Monty is the eldest son of a rich British nobleman and heir apparent to the old man’s vast wealth, lofty reputation and stifling social duties. By Monty’s own admission, he’s a constant disappointment to his unloving and highly traditional father. As the story opens, Monty is about to depart on an expected rite of passage for a young gentleman living in Georgian era England: a grand tour of the European continent. This traveling holiday will serve as his indoctrination into high culture and politics before returning to his family’s estate to assume his inherited duties. While Monty’s future promises splendid wealth and privilege, it is very much a gilded cage. Every aspect of his manhood will be dictated for him — and he knows it. The only problem is that Monty’s as anti establishment as a person could be, starting with the fact that he’s an unapologetic “buggerer,” a contemporary term meaning he likes boys as well as girls. Despite homosexuality being outlawed in England during this era, Monty doesn’t seem to mind who knows about his preferences, perhaps feeling immune to any legal consequences thanks to his title and position. For his father however, it is a source of recurring humiliation.

In order to keep Monty’s wild side under control, his father decides he will be accompanied to Europe by a strict chaperone named Mr. Lockwood; his younger sister Felicity, whom he barely tolerates; and his best friend Percy, with whom he’s secretly in love but who’s mixed-race heritage has made him a social pariah. While Mr. Lockwood intends to keep the young lord away from drink, gambling and debauchery, Henry manages to steal away from a banquet held at the French palace of Versailles with a royal courtesan. Their sexual encounter is interrupted by the woman’s lover — the former French prime minister — with whom Monty had a previous unpleasant encounter. To spite the man, Monty steals a small box from his desk, the contents of which inadvertently launches he, Percy and Felicity on a cross-continent treasure hunt with French assassins close on their heels. 

While The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue perhaps relies too much on Murphy’s Law — whatever can go wrong, will go wrong — it is an enjoyable and often moving romp. Monty is a hedonistic rogue, but also a fascinating narrator who reveals himself to be unexpectedly kind, passionate and damaged. His begrudging love for his traveling companions — he’s a man who outwardly eschews just sentimentality — is also his redemption. In the end, all three main characters buck the norms of their society: Monty due to his sexuality; Felicity due to her gender; and Percy due to his racial background. The ending of the book, while probably unlikely for real people of the 18th century, will certainly appeal to the more egalitarian audiences of the 21st century and is thus quite satisfying.

Mackenzi Lee’s The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy is the lively sequel to her best selling young adult novel, The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue. The story is told from the perspective of Penelope Montague, the intellectual daughter of an abusive English Lord and sister to Henry “Monty” Montague, an aristocratic drunkard, fop and buggerer (to use the 18th century terms). Penelope and her party-boy brother couldn’t be any different if they tried, and the first book did an excellent job of showing both of their strengths and weaknesses as they became reluctant allies on a cross-continent adventure. Although Penelope played a supporting role in The Gentleman’s Guide, The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy is entirely her story.

When last we saw Penelope, Monty, and Monty’s lover, Percy, they were sailing with pirates in the Greek Isles, runways from their privileged but stifling places in English society. The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy picks up several years later. Penelope’s working for a kindly Scottish baker and has ambitions to become a physician at a time when being a midwife was the closest a woman could come to a medical career. After suffering numerous rejections from universities, a sympathetic physician encourages Penelope to reach out to Alexander Platt, a brilliant but unconventional doctor. This is a thrilling prospect for Penelope who has followed Platt’s career for years. In an unbelievable coincidence, Platt also happens to be engaged to Penelope’s former best friend, Johanna Hoffman. Penelope leaves for Austria in the company of a female pirate / bodyguard called Sim, who wants access to the Hoffman estate for reasons unknown. 

The rivalry between Penelope and Johanna is one of the best things about this book. As girls, they used the Montague’s sprawling estate as a backdrop for games about world exploration, becoming famous scientists and raiding lost temples. Then they grew up. Penelope remained serious and nebbish while Johanna became a “proper lady,” complete with frilly dresses, elaborate hairdos and an utter dependence on men. Although Penelope and Johanna manage to forgive each other for past transgressions, they still disapprove of each other’s life choices. Penelope considers Johanna silly and pretentious, and Johanna finds Penelope elitist and mean-spirited. 

Penelope‘s introduction to Dr. Platt is also a wake up call. The rogue physician is not only a drug addict, but not nearly as open minded as Penelope fantasized. Not only is he using Johanna for her wealth and social position, but to gain access to the scientific journals of her late mother, a woman who successfully bucked convention and became that world explorer Penelope and Johanna once fantasized about. Sim also has an interest in the journals, but it’s not until Johanna disappears just before her wedding that the importance of these writings becomes clear.

In many ways, The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy is superior to its predecessor with a more lively pace and a roster of interesting characters. McKenzi Lee does it skillful job making this Penelope‘s book, using Monty and Percy sparingly, and authentically depicting the roles and frustrations of European women of the Georgian Era. The hardest thing for Penelope to accept is just how stacked the system is against women — even women of privilege. Denied the freedom of education, movement, economics, and even marriage, the only thing Penelope has under her control is her intellect. And she uses it as often and as effectively as she can. 

Lee reminds the reader that women come in different forms and that they can be just as sexist towards each other as men. Whether it’s Penelope the bookish intellectual; Johanna the disgraced heiress; or Sim the roughhewn daughter of a pirate king; they all have skills and values they come to appreciate in each other... but not right away. On the downside, The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy suffers from too much coincidental happenstance, such as the aforementioned engagement between Johanna and Dr. Platt. (This was a problem with The Gentleman's Guide, too.) The ending also relies on a deus ex machina plot device which is never a satisfactory way to end any book. Regardless, there’s a lot to like here. Add this one to your reading list.

RELATED: Review of The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue | Historical Young Adult Collection